Lone Star Refuge. Mae & Gwen Nunn & Ford Faulkenberry
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greeted her.
Joiner’s horse, however, snorted when Stella came near. She didn’t open the door to his stall, but took the moment alone to size him up. Every inch of him evoked power. An Argentine Thoroughbred stallion. She had to admit he was pretty incredible. “You’re a beautiful boy.”
A door creaked. “Thanks. But who are you calling a boy?”
Stella turned to see Joiner standing at the opposite end of the stable where she’d stood just yesterday, ready to duel him.
“Do you have X-ray ears or something?”
He walked toward her. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”
He’d tucked a white T-shirt into distressed Levi’s that she couldn’t call loose, and wore a flannel shirt the color of twilight open like a jacket. Brown belt, brown work boots. Wavy hair as dark as his horse peeked out from under his cowboy hat, and Stella willed herself not to remember how soft his hair had been against her cheek last night.
“What are you doing up so early? You don’t have to clock in till eight.”
“I figured I’d try to impress my boss.”
There were lots of ways Stella could have replied to that. Instead, she said, “Well, I’m not on the clock yet, either. Vega and I are going for a ride.”
“Care if Pistol and I join you?”
“Suit yourself.”
They saddled the horses and walked them slowly through the gate. Once out in the pasture, Stella and Vega took the lead, riding swiftly but surely. Joiner had to contain Pistol to keep from passing them. He followed for a while, and then pulled up beside her.
“Where are we going?”
“The north forty. There’s a lake...”
“We’ll see you there.”
Pistol shot forward, kicking up plugs of grass and dirt behind him, reminding Stella of just the type of dangerous horse—and rider—she was dealing with.
Vega kept the pace Stella had set earlier, as if in silent understanding with her rider. They arrived at the shore of the lake to find Joiner sitting on a rock, and Pistol getting a drink from the clear, cool water.
Stella dismounted. She led Vega to drink several steps away from Pistol. When Pistol had drunk his fill, Joiner tied him to a tree. Stella let Vega go but the horse stayed close by her master.
“Want to sit?” Joiner motioned to the rock and Stella sat down on it with him.
The sight was so peaceful and so filled with memories, Stella’s irritation melted away. They lounged side by side, looking out over the lake as the sun spilled its warmth across it. Ducks dived for their breakfast, creating golden ripples, and a heron peered at them from down the bank. Water bugs zigzagged in a pattern at the edge, right in front of the rock. A fish flopped, then another.
“My mom and I used to come here a lot when I was a little girl. It was our favorite place.” Stella fingered her silver necklace and then brought it to her lips, touching it to them as though it was some religious relic. “There are all kinds of lily pads down at the other end—I named it Lake Lily.”
“Your dad told me that she homeschooled you. She must have been really great.”
“She was a great mom. Taught me so many things. I just wish...”
Joiner stared at her intently. In his eyes Stella thought she saw tenderness, as well as compassion mixed with a certain curiosity. When he spoke his voice was kind. “What do you wish?”
“I wish she’d been more careful.”
They sat in heavy silence for a few moments, then Stella tried to explain what she still didn’t really understand herself, even after eight years. “I’m not angry with her, not anymore. And I don’t mean she was reckless. It’s just that, well, the free spirit that made her so amazing also made her sometimes—”
“Not safe?”
“Yeah. Or not careful enough to keep herself safe.”
“And that’s why you want to teach people riding lessons. To keep them safe.”
Stella nodded. “That’s also why I want to emphasize safety in my therapy sessions. So my disabled clients won’t come to any harm on my watch. I want Star Stables to be a place of healing.”
“Well...” Joiner sighed. “My expertise is more of the ride fast, play hard variety. But I do know how to muck out stables.”
“That’s a plus.” Stella laughed, grateful for his effort at a lighter mood, even though his comment about riding fast and playing hard bothered her.
“Do you have any kind of schedule in mind for me?”
She thought out loud. “We’re opening the doors in a week. I already have several clients signed up, but I need to finalize the schedule with my occupational therapist assistant and speech therapist. Funding is a huge issue there but after the donation I got yesterday I can budget enough to contract them each for a few months.”
“That sounds good.”
“Yes. It was really a relief getting that money.”
“So what do you want my role to be?”
“This week, let’s work together with the horses, especially the new ones. I’ll show you some basic hippotherapy techniques.”
“Okay.”
“And there will be a lot of grunt work. Your mucking skills will probably be in high demand.”
Joiner rose from the rock and offered her a hand up. “I guess we better get to it, huh, boss?”
“We’re burning daylight.” As they climbed onto their horses, Stella wondered if maybe her father hadn’t been completely crazy to hire Joiner after all.
* * *
BACK AT THE STABLES, they tended to their own horses and then worked with Daisy and the two others Stella had just purchased. One of them was a paint named Picasso, and the other a red quarter horse with a black mane and tail named Dakota. Stella was happy with how calmly they behaved, and was impressed by Joiner’s expertise in handling them. He was obviously a natural with horses. He picked up quickly on everything she showed him about hippotherapy, even if he seemed a little bit bored.
Around noon a car came up the driveway. Stella recognized it from the previous morning as Clint Cavender’s black Mercedes S600 Guard. He stepped out in shiny black leather boots with a matching belt, starched jeans and a black silk shirt that Stella guessed was probably Prada. A black cowboy hat completed the look that screamed rich. But his smile was as down-to-earth as he was.
“Clint Cavender?” Joiner shocked her by speaking his name. She was further surprised when he jumped over the fence of the pen and strode in Clint’s direction, who was just as eagerly jogging toward him.
“Joiner Temple! Is that really you? I can’t believe my eyes.”
Joiner wiped his hands on his jeans and offered his hand to Clint, who took it and pulled Joiner into a bear hug.
“Hey, man, don’t get your fancy clothes dirty!”
“Shoot. I don’t give a dang about that.”
Stella, who had walked across the pen toward them, leaned on the fence. “You two know each other?”
Clint took his hat off to address her. “Hi there.”
“Know each other?” Joiner said. “You mean you’ve never heard of the dynamic duo of Kilgore High School?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Oh, well, I forgot we were a little bit before your time.” Joiner clapped Clint on the shoulder.